Everything Must Go
by naturelle
Summary: Another family with a new round of secrets. Would Hairin learn to accept herself, or will she be seduced by madness and Chase's manipulation?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, just borrow like most of us here. Except for some OCs, of course!

**A/N:** My 1st Covenant fanfic, so please be kind. In return, I'll try my best. I'm not proposing the best storyline ever, but I hope you'll enjoy it, nonetheless. Constructive feedback is always welcomed ;)

**Edit:** Thanks to RedRogue and Crickes who have kindly pointed out, I've tried to correct the situation problem. Hopefully this clears things up.

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Not everyone who used in the Ipswich colony was part of the Covenant. They had been individuals, each of them holding a unique talent, unprotected by a pact of silence. Free from all restraint, they used whenever they wished, causing suspicions amongst fellow folks men.

It got to a point where some things had to end. After John Putnam had been burnt at stake, accused by Agnes Pope as an incubus, they started to be more cautious about themselves.

Some gave up their powers, fearing the torture that would prevail, if they were found out and branded guilty. They would rather have a peaceful death, than one filled not only with pain, but shame.

The rest, which only remained a handful, moved away from Ipswich and the Massachusetts area, to play safe, living quietly on their own or starting up novel colonies in foreign places.

As time passed, with people believing that witches only existed as bedtime stories, one such family boldly went back, to rediscover their roots, as well as seek out others who shared in their bliss and misery. They were only temporary visits, however, as the family never felt quite safe in Ipswich. Nor were foreigners too warmly welcomed either.

A single breakthrough was able to warrant self-satisfaction, and perhaps guarantee more visits to their hometown: they had managed to forge ties with the four most prominent families in the colony – the Danvers, Parry, Garwin and Sims.

They knew the Covenant's secret just as the Covenant knew theirs. They were never part of each other though, preferring to keep to their own single entities. Knowing that the other existed and they were not alone in this battle, being friendly towards them, and offering support if needed, was enough to keep both groups comfortable.

However, like the Covenant, this one such family had their own weaknesses and downfalls. It wasn't that they aged and their lust for power grew each time they used.

_Unlimited access was the key word in their dictionary._

And it wasn't that they had the trouble of curbing a rebellion, resulting from the fifth bloodline.

_They were an individual species, as mentioned earlier._

So what were the things that made them wary of themselves?

It was the uncertainty of their powers that dragged them down. Each could only have one type, which was different from their parents', thus making it nearly impossible to pass on the wisdom of honing their skills properly.

There was also that unknown factor of what might manifest once they hit puberty.

_Would it be elemental control?_

_Would it be the ability to fly?_

One could speculate, but would never identify til the day itself came. This made them much less susceptible to hold the powers given to them, easily allowing them to succumb to madness.

Some lived through it, like the survival of the fittest mentality, whilst others wallowed in it, letting it overcome everything they had.

For now, as the newest addition and the only one left of her family, modern times appeared to be bleak.


	2. Leave You Cold

**A/N:** Hope this isn't too cheesy. Thanks for the reviews!

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"You know I'm only doing this, because it is in your father's will."

She seemed so nonchalant about it, like a pair of worn-out leather shoes, sick and tired of all that had come to pass. But it was her duty to be an obedient wife. No questions asked.

I nodded, returning back to my collection of memories contained in a multitude of boxes and cartons, as men dressed in casual, rough wear of polo shirts with a distinct logo, jeans and caps, moved them away. Just like that, out of the door, down the stairs, into an ugly van splashed with peeling paint.

I took down the wind-chime which hung by the grills of the window, and held it in my hands. It smooth, crystal surface glittered in the sun's rays, yet it seemed cold and intellectual, reminding me of a past I longed to forget, or pretend, didn't exist.

Three years, mum. It took three years for you and me to submit to my father's will. _How come? What happened? Did something within her falter?_

In the blink of an eye, my wind-chime was gone, and my hands felt as empty as ever. _Did I imagine it? _I never knew anymore. Looking up, I saw my mother's rigid face as she threw it out of the window, allowing it to smash into smithereens, against the parched, grey sidewalk.

An understanding had developed, I didn't need it anymore. It was gone and I was meant to forgive and forget. Push it all away, like they tell you. _Everything will be alright._

Soon, I'll be miles away from the big city, near a quiet University town, perhaps a suburban area. My mother, on the other hand, would situate herself in a posh apartment god-knows-where, letting life pass by meaninglessly, as she sifts through the world in high-class working outfits.

Honestly, I didn't know who the luckier one was.

"Hairin," she commanded.

"Let's go."

* * *

The buzzer sounded.

Evelyn Danvers slowly pulled herself out of her bed. She had a childish gait along the marble floor, one that was often frowned upon by her son. Addiction was their problem, the difference lay only in the matter of form.

She peered through the small crack of the entrance of the door which she opened. Light filtered into the dreary interior of the mansion. Dust swirled around in its golden glory and the musty odor of velvet rushed into her nostrils.

"Penelope." She sounded astonished, as though a ghost had been revived.

"Penny." The sullen lady in front of her corrected.

Immediately, the door swung wide open, as Evelyn took a bold step forward. She regained her balance by gripping the ornate handle.

"So, I see, you still haven't corrected that part of you, Eve."

"Evelyn," she replied, taken aback by the woman's unabashed rudeness. "Where's Patrick and Hairin? What are you doing back here?"

"Is it a common practice for Ipswich members to bombard foreigners with questions?"

"How dare you show me disrespect, on my grounds. What is wrong with you, Penny?"

"Here," she replied, shoving a tattered envelope into Evelyn's hands. "Patrick leaves you some of his inheritance."

"What?" Evelyn struggled to recollect her thoughts properly. "What is this? For Christ's sake, what happened?"

"Christ," she scoffed. "As if anyone of you shared in that."

She gritted her teeth before she continued. "I hate to be the one informing you about this, but Patrick has passed on."

"Oh…Penny," Evelyn reached out to comfort her, but she shrugged it off, as though Evelyn were infected with some sort of disease.

"Don't!" she yelled. "Get away from me!"

Evelyn withdrew, like she had just touched hot, fiery coal. "When?" Her resolve grew.

"Three years ago."

Evelyn's eyes widened at the fact. "Why didn't you tell us? We could have made it in time for –"

She raised her hand to silence her. "Save it."

There was a long pause. "What about Hairin?"

"She's in the car."

Her finger pointed in the direction of a posh space wagon. All Evelyn could see were the black tinted windows zipped up, not a sign of the girl anywhere.

"How is she taking all of this?"

The change in her facial expression was obvious. "She's fine." It sounded overly emphasised.

"She'll be studying here at Spenser's, obliged by her father's wishes."

Evelyn looked around before whispering, "Does she know?"

Penelope's jaw went slack and her mouth was agape. Gradually, her eyes turned bloodshot as she clenched her fists. "Know what?" Her throaty response flew at Evelyn; a rhetorical question that should be avoided.

"About your warped up tales of lies and deceit?" Her eyes glowered. "Stay away from her. I'm warning you."

She walked briskly towards the space wagon. "Don't fill her with such nonsense. Her head can't take it."

With that, she got in and slammed the car door.

Evelyn was left alone again, on her porch, eyeing the vehicle as it made its way out of the autumn leaf-filled gravel.

* * *

She had seen it, heard it all, from the backseat.

Leaving the car door slightly ajar had gained her a full view of the majestic Victorian eclectic mansion. It stood dauntingly in front of her, its grandiosity wholly intact. The intricate designs carved along the high wooden panel, the handsome bricks that lined its skeleton, the hipped roof with prominent chimneys. She remembered its entire heavy style.

Evelyn had looked even more haggard than before. Her eyes which once shone with passion, had grown dull, and her cheekbones seemed sagged and hollow.

She had only been here twice. Her first time being six; her second, and also her last time, at twelve. Just before she reached that age of confusion – thirteen.

Of course she knew, she knew everything, because her dad had told her. They had to be careful, ensuring that mum wasn't around when it happened. She would have nothing to do with it. _Pretend that it never existed._

But she didn't want to think about her mum or her dad. She just wanted to recall the minimal times spent in that opulent vastness. Evelyn had a son; dark-haired, stoic but friendly. What was his name again?

_Caleb, yes Caleb._

And the others.

_Pogue._

_Reid._

_Tyler._

The names suddenly came back to her simultaneously, like a round of firing bullets.

They had fun playing hide-and-seek while their parents had chatted in the dining hall. She laughed at the memory of Tyler and her hiding in the same wardrobe, because they believed in the world of Narnia. That was when they were six and innocent.

Then, a couple of years passed, and she was back again, as a pubescent this time. During a game of dare, she had to climb the complex branches of the great oak tree, behind the house, in order to obtain a specific plump, white feather, which had fallen off the wings of some bird, as instructed by Reid.

"_Don't do it."_ Pogue had warned. Funny choice of words for a daredevil. But it went unheeded.

The branch she hung onto, wafer-thin compared to the rest, had broken, and she fell, tumbling down a good height. Miraculously, she escaped unscathed. There was something, she had believed, that seeped out of the pores of the house.

_Something magical._

Of course, the boys laughed it off, ridiculing her. But they couldn't have known then, could they? They hadn't gone off to Camp Iwanahee yet, to learn the secrets of their trade.

That was when she heard it. As usual, the parents had their adult talk. And she eavesdropped.

"_Aren't you ever going to tell her?"_

"_Now's not the time. Your sons as well."_

"_They'll know at the camp."_

"_Maybe I shouldn't. I don't want her part of this. I don't want her to lead the life that I have led."_

"_You know you can't change that. There's bound to be questions later. She'll need your help."_

"_And I can provide her none."_

"_You can assist her."_

"_I don't know."_

She didn't have a clue what they meant at the time, and thought nothing of it.

_Until thirteen._

As her mum charged into the car abruptly, leaving the magnificent site which housed all those precious memories behind, she had never felt more alone.


	3. Where I Belong

**A/N:** Hello! It seems as though everyone's alert system is down, mine included. Btw, does anyone know how long this usually goes on for? Tis terribly annoying. Anyway, hope this chapter is appropriate, may be a bit boring, but the next one will be better. Thanks for the reviews!

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Because of my father's generous donation to the academy, Provost Higgins had taken time off his busy schedule to show us around the campus. My mother and I tailed along, her fake appraisals working well on him. But I knew, she just wanted to get the hell out of here.

We took a brief walk through the school courtyard, the canteen, selected tutorial rooms and lecture halls and various activity centres, such as their 'infamous' swimming pool.

We had nearly reached the end of the tour when finally, she plucked up enough courage. Clearing her throat, she asked, "What about counseling services, or perhaps a…"

She couldn't find the right word.

"A…"

"A consultant for mental health?"

He had a nice way of phrasing it.

"Yes, yes, exactly. Better to be safe than sorry." Her eyes quickly darted in my direction. "My daughter is somewhat, well…you could say, a bit…sensitive, you see." She gave a nervous laugh.

"Ah, yes. I understand what you both must have gone through during such turbulent times. Be sure of it Mrs. Lee –"

"Miss Cheng is just fine, thank you."

It got on my nerves every time she chose to oh-so-blatantly use her maiden name in front of everyone. I broke her gaze and looked the other way.

"Well, Miss Cheng, let me assure you, that we have one of the best health care services around. Our medical clinic, as you can see, right over there, across this building –" He gestured towards it. "– is open round the clock, and as youngsters these days say, '24/7'."

He chuckled to himself as my mother played along.

"Excellent services, indeed. Those of which, include individual counseling, psychotherapy, group counseling, consultation and self-help assistance." He rattled off at the tips of his fingers.

"That would be more than excellent, Provost! I'm sure my daughter will be very welcomed here, during her stay."

"As an elite academy, we not only care for the students' education, but their welfare as well. That's why we boost all-rounders." He smiled. "Right, now if you don't mind, I shall show both of you to Miss Lee's room."

And so, we trotted off to our next destination.

* * *

I found out I was rooming with some girl named Kira Snider. It didn't take a genius to know that she was a class differentiator. A single look at her, and I already knew. _Oh, so this is my new room-mate. That kind of girl._

For now, she was nice to me. Or at least she appeared to be. Hearing I was a city-kid, maybe more with it than her, and most of all, rich, loaded, whatever. If she knew another part of my life which I had kept from others, sometimes, even myself, she'd probably would've thought twice about letting me into her group.

"Hairin."

My mother caught my attention once more.

_This was it, she was going to leave._

"I'll be leaving now."

She drew close. "Don't do anything stupid."

That was all she could say to me? She was going to leave me, in the middle of nowhere, whilst she would stay a million miles away, not caring if I destroyed myself in the process, which I was very capable of doing. She wanted nothing to do with me.

She unfolded a slip of paper. "I've made regular appointments for you and the guidance counselor. If it gets too much, they'll transfer you to the shrink."

The word stung my face like sea spray.

"I'm off."

No goodbye kisses, no long endearing hugs, the kinds that said I'll never leave you, I want you by my side, always. No nothing.

But before she took her second step down the front stairs of the school entrance, she turned around sharply. Her eyes pierced through my skin as she hissed, "Stay away from those four, you know who. And don't mention anything about powers or the sort. You don't have them. Get that?"

I glared at her with everything that burned within me. The dead leaves rustled along the floor, some twigs floated in mid-air, and a tree near me bent forward, uttering a silent groan, burdened by an invisible weight.

All at once, she stooped down, and knelt before me, grabbing both of my hands, pleading like a beggar.

"Stop this," she implored. "Just stop it!"

Her eyes were watered with tears. The students around started looking at us with curiosity. Whispers filled the corners of the school.

"Mum," I summoned, and she looked up. "People are staring."

"Then why don't you stop?"

I flung her hands away. "No, you're the one who should stop."

With that, I took off full-speed, away from everything I had ever known.

* * *

"Mum?"

She rotated her armchair to face her son. "Caleb." She smiled, relieved.

"What's wrong?" Without waiting for an answer, he took off his school jacket and threw it to the side. Then, making his way into the bathroom, he grabbed a face towel and wetted it with warm water.

When he returned, his mother was still in the same state as before. Totally despondent, mascara lining the pathways of her face, her arm limp against the rest. A letter stained with blotches lay on her lap. He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, as he cleaned her up.

A spot on the carpet next to her was drenched with alcohol and a tipped beverage glass was strewn beside it. He sighed. They would have to call in the specialty cleaners again, who knew how to clear the mess up, without ruining the prized covering.

"Baby, would you pour me another drink?"

"No, mum. You've had more than enough here." He gently pushed the glass away with his foot. "I'm getting you to bed."

He was about to carry her away when she halted him. "Wait."

"What is it?"

"There is something I must show you." She passed the letter to him, motioning for him to read it.

"Patrick Lee…" His voice trailed off.

"Do you remember him?"

"Vaguely. That tall, pale, Eurasian guy; a family friend, am I right?"

She nodded, "He's gone, hon."

"I'm sorry," he responded in reflex reaction. It was hard to feel something for someone you hardly knew.

"How about his daughter, do you remember her, instead?"

He scowled as he tried to gather his thoughts. The fuzzy image in his mind cleared itself out. "I can't recall her name."

"Hairin."

"Lee Hairin." They chorused in union.

"We're her protectorates now. Regardless of her mother's wishes, her father's hold a greater weight. It's stated in that letter. He's left us part of his treasure as well."

"But where is she? And her mother?"

"She has just transferred to Spenser's. As for her disillusioned mother, you can firmly say that she's left her for good."

A sense of agitation gripped him. After all these years, she had eventually arrived back here, a fact which he thought was nearly impossible. Scraps of conversations returned to him, about how her father's condition deteriorated and she, herself too, had become like him, after discovering her uncanny abilities.

He loosened his school tie and sat down beside his mother. "What is her power?"

"Telekinesis."

"Telekinesis," he repeated, as though registering it to his brain. He pinched the bridge of his nose absentmindedly. "How is she?"

He became aware that his mother had grown fidgety. "Penny wouldn't let me see her."

"Penny?"

"Her mother."

"Oh, the moody one." He had known, the first moment she stepped into their house, that she had a disregard for all of them. The no-nonsense type. It was a wonder what made her marry someone like her husband.

"Anyway, after all that's been said, I want you to promise me that you and the rest will keep an eye on her," she instructed.

Her eyes were beginning to look droopy as she leaned back on her armchair and cradled the back of her neck with her hands.

"Yes. Now let's get you upstairs." He sounded exasperated.

Why did he always have to be the one who solved everyone else's problems? He already had his to worry about.

"Yes what?" Evelyn still wasn't convinced.

"I promise."

_Me, the good son, again._


	4. Newfound

**A/N:** Boys meet girl and girl meets boys. Alerts still down, so bah!

**RedRogue:** Thanks! Not sure if I'm aiming for a really good plot, I was hoping to do more character study and how they relate to each other. Btw, could I use your soundtrack listing idea for the end? **Edit:** Thanks for notifying me on the typo, lol the meaning really changes.

**xlexisx: **Thank you for reminding me about the sessions, yep that gave me more to write on and solved a minor writer's block for the next few chapters. Haha, well I'm kinda neutral about Penny.

**Miss.Allerdyce: **Thanks for being my constant supporter. Keep up with 'All in the Past' as well. Love Nathan as always ;), lucky Rogue…but tis sad.

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"Sarah." Her perceptive room-mate tried to read the emotions off her face. "Is everything alright, girl?"

"Yeah, of course." She forced a smile. If she were to list the things that bothered her, she wouldn't know where to begin.

"You can't bottle it all in there," she indicated to her friend's heart. "It's unhealthy."

Sarah stretched her arms forward and sighed. "Well, with the amount of tests we've had so far, stress isn't an option."

_What a lame excuse._

And Kate picked it up. "You're never_ that_ stressed about tests. Besides, we've only had one this week."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, it's the exams that vex you." She giggled, "Come on, you can't fool me."

Drawing her arm across Sarah's shoulder, she pried further, "So, what's up? Hmmm, lemme guess…" She rubbed her fingers against her chin.

"Caleb."

The blonde sweetheart turned towards her spunky companion. She had nailed it right on the spot.

"I know you too well," she teased. "Mr. High-flier playing you out for his responsibilities, again?"

Sarah shrugged. "He seems so detached these days. Like I can't get through to him."

It was true. He hardly smiled anymore, with or without her. Jokes or adorable cuddles didn't have its effect it used to have. Questioning him never worked, he just waved it off insignificantly, his brows furrowed and forehead creased. She wanted to help him badly, but he wouldn't let her.

"Maybe you should take it easy on the guy. I mean, you do know about his mum." She caught a spark of recognition in her friend's eyes. "Not to mention, how he's coping with the ascension and all."

Sarah couldn't have been more worried over Caleb and his new-found powers. She could hardly imagine how tempting it was for him, to use unsparingly, but like her, he had always controlled it, pushing it to the back of his mind, with the rest of his demons.

Perhaps Kate was right. Being the later one out of the two to know about the Covenant, she had picked up pretty fast. After that Chase incident; Sarah shuddered at the thought, Pogue confessed to Kate, everything. She had taken it well enough, claiming that once, she too, did her own research, building up on reservations which went unanswered.

Sometimes, high-end achievers needed a break. And she would give him one, no doubt about that.

"Just be there for him when he needs it. Show him you care, that's basically all you can do for now," Kate advised her. "Pogue used to have those episodes." With which she emphasised, "A lot."

"Thanks," Sarah muttered.

A knock on the door disrupted their conversation. _To speak of the devil. _

"Kate, we'd better go before what's-his-name gets all doomsday over us." The sharp-eyed boy ran his fingers through his chestnut-brown mane, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Baby, it's not like you to be this enthusiastic about class." Kate leaned in towards Sarah for a quick word, "Boys will be boys."

"Well actually, I'm enthusiastic about finding us some private, corner-end seats," he smirked, knowing she wouldn't be able to resist this one.

The magic worked instantly. "Mmm, that's more like it." She sauntered seductively into his arms and their lips met.

Sarah blushed for them, then left herself to her own thoughts, wondering when will be the next time her morose boyfriend and her would share the same ardent kisses from their first date to Nicky's.

It seemed to be a reversal of roles. Pogue rarely escorted his woman to class, it was always Caleb, and Caleb only. Until that accident happened, Pogue spent less time wheeling, not because he feared it, but the realisation that his girlfriend might not stay with him forever if he continued, hit him like a ton of bricks.

Caleb, on the other hand, went in the opposite direction. Now she was the one complaining, not Kate. What a change of shoes.

"Hey girl, you don't mind if we be off first? After all, it's your free period."

Sarah smiled, giving them her approval.

"Take care, you. And don't upset yourself too much!" The mocha-toned princess wiggled her fingers into a small wave.

Before she could shut the door, Pogue arrested the moment in time, to ask something he had nearly forgotten about. "Do both of you, by any chance, know of this newcomer, Lee Hairin?"

The two girls shook their heads. "But it'll be quite easy to spot her, I guess. There aren't that many Asians around here," Sarah remarked, sensible as ever.

"What are you looking for her for?" Kate questioned, with a tinge of defensiveness.

"An old friend of the Covenant," he mentioned, bluntly. "I can't really remember her, to tell you the truth. All I heard from Caleb was that she's pretty messed up; can't control her powers."

"Oh, so she's a witch too?" Kate snorted.

"Sort of." He shrugged. "Well, if you do see her, let us know."

"Sure, no problem."

* * *

"This is my boyfriend, Aaron." Her fingers tousled his shaggy hair playfully.

He gave a lazy smile and his shifty eyes crept onto mine, examining me from top-to-bottom. Satisfied, he reached out and shook my hand.

"If you need anything, just give me a call," he winked. I was sure he meant more than that behind those words.

"Class, please be seated." A distinguished-looking man rushed forth, in a flurry.

"That's Mr. Cain. He's a nervous freak, you should take a look at his handwriting," Kira whispered in my ear, as I sat down beside her, whilst Aaron took the other side, petulant about not being the middle-man instead.

It didn't matter; I'd rather look like a bloody third-wheel than girlfriend-number-two.

Sure enough, the squiggly mess which I presume, was supposed to explain the concept of integration, caused a number of frowns in the audience as they tried to decode the haphazard symbols, while the rest showed a general disinterest.

Giving up on the lecture, I focused my attention towards the students. Aaron had discreetly planted his hand up Kira's skirt and she gave the impression that she enjoyed it.

From a distance, I thought I saw a flash of something familiar. That mop of blonde hair, those defiant cobble-grey eyes, the chiseled nose I had been so tempted to break a few summers back. But most of all, his leery smirk, which seemed to have found its way to my direction.

Quickly, I looked away as he nudged his comrade next to him. With a glance sideways, I caught a glimpse of his partner's bright blue eyes, his rosy good-child features and his uneven tresses; its colour altering against the light.

"Checking out the sons of Ipswich?"

I whipped around, staring at the slinky redhead whose mouth was twisted into some amorphous shape. Aaron came across slightly irritated by the intrusion.

"You sure know where to look, taste-wise." She licked her lips suggestively. "It's a pity some of them are taken, especially by girls who don't deserve such a status."

"They're not_ that_ hot," Aaron objected, conceitedly.

Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain wrenching my head. I clutched it in my hands, as a voice tried to sound me out, only to be interrupted by a –

"Dude, what the fuck are you doing?"

One of the boys smacked the other on the head. The timid one emitted a yelp before his eyes, which were initially black as coal in the snow, changed back to its original colour, within a second.

"I was just trying to get in touch," he protested.

"Mr. Garwin and Mr. Sims," a voice from the front squeaked. "Would you both like to enlighten us with a full sample on the board; question number eighteen?" Mr. Cain's hands seemed to tremble as he spoke.

"You ok?" Kira asked.

"Yeah, just a headache," I lied.

I watched intently as they made their way down, apprehensive about the whole situation, fumbling for the chalk and having absolutely no clue on how to do the sum. These boys whom I had known were just the same as I had left them.

Reid, with his white collared shirt untucked at the back, scratched his head as he furiously flipped through the pages of his textbook for a remedy. Tyler cleared his throat as he dotted the board continuously, thinking he could get it, if he banged hard enough.

Finally, Reid slammed the book shut.

"Gimme that!" He snatched the chalk out of Tyler's grasp.

What he wrote on the board next made the entire class snigger.

Mr. Cain paled. Just as he was about to enforce some discipline, the school bell rang. The boys grabbed their baggage and hurried out of the classroom.

'_YR WRITING SUCKS SHIT.'_

Gradually, my mouth gave way to a smile, which led to genuine laugh, one I hadn't had in years.

* * *

"Any luck?"

"None," Pogue gruffly replied.

"What about you guys?" He raised an eyebrow.

They appeared to be rather disheveled.

The blonde one spoke first. "Yeah, actually, we had some, til Tyler here just _had _to give the girl a migraine and an early birthday present to me; a free math demonstration."

Caleb winced. _That probably didn't go too well._

"Right. So, you found her?"

"Yeah, she looks…different."

Reid elbowed him. "Whad'ya expect her to be? Still twelve?"

"She's with Kira, though."

The boys' faces immediately turned sour. "Definitely not a good sign." Pogue jerked his thumb in the direction of the aforementioned lady and her gang.

Kira appeared to be engaged in public fondling with her man while his sidekicks toyed with a petite, dour girl in the group. Her slanting fringe hid her eyes and her lengthy, oriental hair reached the small of her back. Her lips puckered, she seemed content with her efforts of ignoring them.

"Yep, she's gone emo now," Reid joked.

"It's indie, there's a difference," Tyler argued.

"And since when is it your place to berate me on style?"

Caleb shook his head as he separated himself from the squabble. Pogue, his right-hand man, traced alongside him, offering support. They entered as calmly as they could, upon the group that viewed them with displeasure.

"Whad'ya want?" A jock crossed their path, like a bodyguard.

"A word with the girl," Caleb mentioned casually.

"So, you've finally come to your senses." Kira pushed Aaron aside and slid over to him voluptuously. "Sarah isn't going to be happy," she trailed off in a naughty accent.

Pogue rolled his eyes. _When were they ever gonna be done with this?_

"Not you, hag. Her." He tilted his head towards the other female of the group. Before the rest could react, he grabbed her hand and dragged her over to their side. She followed compliantly without a word.

Kira's faced dropped. "Have fun, Hairin," she spat, storming off as fast as possible, hauling Aaron by his shirt.

"Nice, Pogue." Reid welcomed him with open arms as they rejoined.

"Thanks." He eyed the gesture. "But no thanks."

"Guys, I think we should take this somewhere else." Tyler bit his lip anxiously.

"But we've haven't even been introduced!"

"Hi, Reid," the girl said, out of the blue, rather emotionlessly.

It surprised him that she could still remember. "Hi…" He regained his composure, inclined against the wall. "Missed me?"

She blinked several times and pushed her fringe to the side, but made no reply. The drugs were kicking in again, and she felt uncomfortably numb.

"I'll take that as a yes," he flicked his hair like a model.

"Come on, give her a break," Pogue grumbled.

"We're taking this to the girls' room."

Once again, their de-facto leader made the rational decision.


	5. Disturbing Behaviour

**A/N:** Yaaaayyyy!! The alerts and log in systems have been solved! _Does a happy dance._ Hopefully this chapter won't be too weird or cheesy, I've been kinda biting my nails on whether to post it or not. Well, let me know what you think ;)

**xlexisx: **Thanks for once again reminding me about the headaches, you indeed have a sharp eye! They will be soon explained.

**Crickes:** Glad that made you crack up! I'll try to inject more humour with our favourite Ipswich boys.

**Shevaun:** Thanks, well actually I won't be able to update from 5th dec to 23rd dec, cos I'll be away then, so I'm sorta filling the gaps to the best I can for now!

**Bigamericanflirt:** Thanks for reading and reviewing! She's on medication cos she's suffering from depression and other stuff which will be explained later. I'm trying to make it such that the medication controls her everything, keeping her power in place.

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They treated her like their sister, just as how they treated each other as brothers. It was almost as if she was a part of the Covenant itself, but being a newbie, she didn't share the same privileges yet. There wasn't the closeness of a bond, even though they cared about her. She was still a stranger in their eyes, and they too, in hers.

Being a recluse, and still part of Kira's gang, she wasn't the easiest person to talk to, or get acquainted with. The boys knew she was on medication, but still, it didn't make things any simpler.

For example, out of good-will, Kate had invited her for a girls' night out to Nicky's, to which she responded with a simple "No." Why? She couldn't explain herself, basing it on the pretext that she was too tired.

Soon, the girls gave up. But the boys had a duty to perform, especially Caleb. She was their responsibility now, and he accepted that. There was no way they could fix it. He invited her to his house to meet his mother, to which she declined, but promised that she would agree to next time, when she recovered more resilience.

So, they had to practice in the college dorms. Each of the boys alternated, trying to help her control her powers. _Each failed._ It relied entirely on her emotions, not her will. With the pills, she could hardly accomplish anything. And without them, everything would be chaotic. But still, they pressed on. What if one day she didn't have the pills to back her up? They couldn't risk it.

In the meantime, Tyler's turn had arrived.

"Ok, how about we try it a bit differently this time?" He smiled, trying to cheer her up.

She tried to smile back for him, but it came out all weird. "We're always trying it different."

"I know," he shrugged. "Come here."

She went over and allowed his arms to envelope her. "Don't worry, ok? We'll sort this thing out."

"Soon," he promised, as he rubbed her back, reassuringly.

She didn't hug back, feeling like a corpse in his embrace, her face not a trace of sentiment, never the cuddly little girl.

Letting go, he sounded like an older brother; perfect, loving, and shy.

"Can't you feel anything?"

"No," she deadpanned.

"Numb?"

"Very."

Such monosyllabic answers would have driven someone crazy. But being Tyler, he had been trained to be patient. Undo it all, and you'd have a wild-child.

"How about if I pinched you," he placed his thumb and index finger against her skin, "Like this?" He proceeded to take up a little, gently.

"You call that a pinch?"

He applied a little more pressure, afraid that she would shriek any minute.

"Do it harder," she urged.

She saw the fear in his eyes as he granted her wish. Finally, she felt something. It was flowing up from her arms to every part of her body, her nervous system was working, and she felt revitalised.

A book flew in their direction and he released his grip right away.

"Sorry." His bashful eyes looked towards the floor of his shared room.

She raised his chin towards her. "Hit me," she said, softly.

"What?" He stared at her, horrified.

"Go ahead." She rotated her left cheek to face him. "Do it."

"Hairin, get a hold on yourself." His tone was serious.

She felt a lump in her throat and she wanted to cry, but she couldn't. Her face scrunched up like an angry baby and she scratched at her eyes, hoping, feeling for a single tear. It never came.

He tried to hold her again, but after a moment or two, she pushed him away, and smacked him. Strike after strike reigned against his face, but he didn't utter a sound. Better than he hitting her, he thought.

Suddenly, she stopped, and the stationery on the study table had discontinued its spinning, coming to a standstill, then falling effortlessly to the ground. He felt something wet against his nose.

She gazed absorbedly at the redness in her palm and her irises glittered. It wasn't hers, but she didn't care. It was a sign of life, for her, and she was willing to go through all means to have it. Studying the patterns it formed along the lines, she smeared it across her neck, imagining it was hers to keep.

It seemed as though time had frozen for him, his eyes were rooted on her, and he didn't know what to do or what to say, praying that what he had just witnessed wasn't real. This wasn't the Hairin he knew or loved.

A trickle of blood dripped to the floorboards. The stain screamed at him, _"SHE'S FUCKING CRAZY!"_

Every portion of the foreign girl in front of him oozed of a meek, '_help me_.'

He seized something to stop the bleeding, wiping it away. Then, he dashed out of the room, as fast as his legs could carry him.

* * *

"Have you seen Caleb?"

"You're asking me?" He guffawed. "That's new."

"Reid, quit it," she sighed and curled the right parting of her hair behind her ear.

"You're always with him. You guys are practically inseparable, and now you're asking me this." He lifted his hands in exasperation. "What do ya think I am, his wi-otch?"

"Fine." She chewed the bottom of her lip. "Then just say you didn't know already."

She was about to depart when he grabbed her arm and wheeled her around. "Wassup with you and him?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she replied, harsh.

"Sure you do." He wouldn't let her go that lightly. "Your room," he ordered, pulling her towards the designated area. He tried the door handle, and held it for her like a gentleman, accompanying it with a slight bow.

"After you."

"Thanks."

He lugged himself in with his manly swagger and shut the door from behind, taking his place by the side of the wall. He leaned sluggishly against it, like a rebel without a cause.

"So, do I have to ask a second time, or what?"

Her eyes glowered at him before she continued. "It's like we're nothing anymore." She tugged her hair backwards with her hands, "No, wait."

"It's like _I'm_ nothing anymore," she corrected.

"Bullshit."

Adjusting his jacket, he added, "Look, Caleb's got his moods. The prick has habits, see; good times – he's a killjoy, bad times – he's a killjoy too. Just double that."

"And I'm supposed to buy this?" She looked at him in disbelief.

"Why do you always blame yourself for everything, Sarah?" He was clearly irritated now.

"Oh yeah? Like what?" she challenged. "Enlighten me."

"You practically live according to his whims and fancies."

"That's not true!"

He raised his hand to silence her. "Like when he's enraged, you take it out on yourself. And then he ignores you, doesn't even want to talk to you, let alone clue you in on his secrets, you act like everything's so fucking fine and dandy."

"Reid." Her face was livid. "That's enough."

He beat his fist against the wall. "Why do you let him do this to you?"

She didn't reply, but he persisted. Each time, his voice grew louder, throwing questions that she couldn't find the answers to. _Until she snapped._

"Because I care about him, ok? Is that so hard to believe, Reid, especially for someone like you?" she spat with pure venom, topping his arguments in volume. "You jealous, or what?"

"_I._

_Love._

_Him."_

She paused in-between her words, hoping to amplify what she wanted to bring across, as well as reassuring herself, like it was some safety-net to fall back on.

"Do you even know what that means?"

He lunged forward, swiftly taking her by the arms with ferocity, contemplating on his rebuttal to that statement.

Through clenched teeth, he spoke dangerously soft, yet at the same time, it came out constipated. "Love…is a deserter."

Then, he released her, and a sense of awkwardness prevailed, as he straightened himself out, retreated back, walking away, hands-clean from the foul scene.

"That's where you're wrong. It's unconditional."

* * *

I noticed the way she flipped through my files. _So much for confidentiality._ I shifted uneasily in my chair, determining how she would judge me, with her knowledge that I had undergone hospitalisation for three months, right after a few accidents had happened.

My mother was right, a guidance counselor was beneath me. After that Tyler incident, I demanded to see someone from above, saying I had done it again, I was losing control with my obsession with blood. I didn't tell her what went on between him and me.

"I won't be changing your medication unless necessary. From what I have heard, your usual dosage of Edronax and Ativan are sufficient for now."

Seeing that I wasn't convinced, she added, "It's common that once in awhile, you will re-experience such symptoms, but the side effects aren't as fatal as to warrant a discontinuation with the medication."

She stopped scanning through the papers, took off her reading glasses and placed them on her desk. "Besides, it's a better choice for concentration and motivation."

Motivation? I thought. I hardly felt motivated to do anything.

"I'm not going to put you on Prozac, Hairin. I don't want you to be dependent on it."

"It sounds like an upgrade, yeah? To the elitist culture. Like how you move on to Heroin after the other squats don't work."

I hated medication, but yet I wanted to be rid of this as soon as possible. I wanted to be normal again, and since Prozac was deemed to be more effective, I wanted it to cure me.

"Hairin, that's not what I meant."

She paused for a moment. "I want you to learn how to cope with situations on your own. Post-trauma sets in when you can't respond adequately to the intensity of the event. But you're getting over that now, and it won't be fair of me to deprive you of natural chances towards self-recovery."

"Look, why don't you do both of us a favour, Doctor? Let's skip all this Freud bullshit, I've been there, seen that, done that. Get to the point, cause I sure as hell know that you and I would rather be anywhere else but here."

"I'd appreciate it if you kept your profanities to yourself," she reprimanded, sternly.

"Continue on with your prescription. I have assigned you to group therapy, once a week, no further questions on that will be entertained. I have also made it compulsory for you to join a sports activity outside of lessons. It will be a good form of treatment."

She handed me a list of co-curricular activities, from what the college had to offer, saying that I choose one from there. "Personally, I feel that swimming would be excellent for you, it's very relaxing and not too strenuous."

"I'm not swimming," I confirmed. She had just touched a raw nerve without even realising it. I wasn't going to wear something that would strip me of my dignity. I knew my wounds were still there.

"Well it's up to you. It was only a suggestion."

I glanced at the list again and my eyes lingered over a particular word. I shut them, tasting it.

_Dance for me, baby._

I was a toddler again, in a pretty pink fairy costume, skipping away to the music. My toothless grin towards the audience and my dad mouthing those enchanting words. Then, I went into contemporary, exploring human nature and its soul. It was such a masochistic art.

_I've never seen you so raw. It's as though everything's a lot clearer._

"I'll join the Modern Dance Collective."

"Very well." She smiled in approval and noted down my choice. "The schedule's next to the general notice-board, I assume you know where that is?"

I nodded in reply, getting up from my chair, ready to leave.

"Now, is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Nothing." I made my way to the door, walking through its entrance. "Unless you're interested to know about the dreams I've been having, of some strange boy…"

"Hmm," she replied, without batting an eyelid.


	6. Nicky's

**A/N:** Hello again, sorry I won't be able to update for a good while after this chapter, cos I'm off to UK for the Cambridge Winter School Programme and hols with me mum after that, so errr probably will be about a month before you see this thing updated! Thanks for staying with me though!

**TheWinterWolf:** Thank you! Hope you'll continue to enjoy it.

**Crickes:** Thanks so much for your support! I'll try to make it as realistic as possible. Hopefully I'll manage.

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He sat in his convertible Ford Mustang, top-down, letting the zephyr sift through his fingers. He could feel the breath of hedged trees whispering secrets in his ears. The scattered leaves gave the path an auburn hue and it filled with life with the breeze. He reached the pebbled bridge, overlooking the estuary dampened with silt, flowing through three arched waterways.

He had come here to be alone, take time off from the dreary world and all that had suffocated him. The guilt he felt within him was boundless. Here was athletic champion, the well-rounded academic scholar, with a supposedly bright future ahead, but everything inside was broken.

_Dad, I never wanted this to happen._

Yet, he had that adrenaline-rush every time he used, especially during its acquirement. The waves of ecstasy overwhelmed him, touching the five points of his outstretched body, like David's star in the ineluctable circle of existence. So whole and complete, everything he wanted to be, not like his father. Then again, it was everything that embodied what his father was.

_I didn't want you to will me what was rightfully yours._

He didn't know what his father thought about him anymore. All his life, he had tried to prove that he was nothing like him. His father was meant to be a warning of what was to come if one wasn't careful. A warning, nothing more.

His job was to deliver the medication to Gorman, behind the dingy sofa. That was it. They barely communicated. Once in awhile he took a step closer, watching the clear liquids streaming through the ugly tubes that protruded from his veins. The heavy sound of the ventilator metered with his own breathing pace. He hated the cadaver that lay in place of his dad.

_Why won't you talk to me?_

The cadaver just grinned like a Jack-O lantern. It was so idiotic, he had taken his father for a fool, never speaking another word to him again.

He had heard of changelings when he was young. The childish side of him emerged when he wanted to believe in that. His father was probably in the wild, remote moors, drinking thyme and honey whilst the folk played peculiar music with that faraway look in their eyes. He wanted to believe that his father was enjoying himself, in love with the sun, sea and tide. Anything but that day bed.

_I killed you._

It didn't matter what others said. He took the blame fully. He was responsible for everything, his father's addiction, his mother's alcoholism, his good friend's accident, his girlfriend's near-death experience, and most of all, his father's expiration. _Everything._ Or maybe, he just wanted to be responsible.

Gone were the daily chores of running errands. He could never wait to see the day. Now, an emptiness smothered him, the loss of routine made him unfocused. He'd go, every day, still, to the same place, watching the same sofa for hours, hoping against all hope that Gorman would resurrect his father, supporting him up the stairs, sheepishly explaining that he needed to use the toilet.

"_Daddy, why do your eyes look so black?"_

"_Oh, it's nothing, son."_

"_It's like that all the time!"_

"_No, it's not. You're imagining things."_

"_Daddy…are you sick?"_

Tears welled up in his eyes. Every word had been so familiar, he could swear that he was still the infant he was, yesterday. He never cried, not even at the funeral. The carcass in that box wasn't his father. He had to be strong, for every mourning person. It was what was expected of him. It was what he expected of himself.

His nose felt funny, as though someone was gradually plugging it. He rubbed it with the side of his index finger, to stop the itch. It became runny. A sharp twist of his shoulders, he was out of the car, crying out to the waters to take him, take away his burden.

Then, he sobbed uncontrollably, wishing that he could hold his father again, burying his face into his warm, overgrown coat, just like he used to, when he hurt his knee whilst playing in the field.

"_Ssshh…don't cry, Caleb. Be strong, be a man. I can heal it, if you want."_

The tingling sensation was there, as he felt his tissue cells regenerate a second time. Why couldn't his dad heal him now?

His mobile vibrated. Fishing it out of his pocket, he stared at the blinking screen.

_Sarah._

He switched it off.

* * *

A bunch of giggly girls in dull, monochrome swimsuits scrambled past her, excited about their first swimming lesson, and a celebration to the end of land physical education for the remaining year.

It seemed as though she was the only one unsettled about the whole issue. She held up her swim-piece in front of her again, deciding on whether to take the plunge or not. Another choice would be to fake that her monthly friend had come, or pretend to be ill with a cold. But that couldn't last forever.

Perhaps she could just skip the lessons. They wouldn't notice her, right? There were so many fish in the sea. Right?

She should've asked the Doctor to give her an excuse letter when she had the chance. Now, it was too late. A straight-laced girl hurried her, but she had already made up her mind. She'd hide in the stalls until everyone had left for the pool, then she'd make a bee-line to the library. That was her safe-haven. No one would question her on why she was there.

Quietly, she closed the door, standing on the toilet seat. When she had made sure that everyone had gone, she stealthily tip-toed out of her hiding place, and walked briskly out of the locker room.

She thought she had been safe, until someone called.

"Hey, the pool's this way."

She cursed under her breath as she slowly faced her nemesis. "Tyler?" she gasped, wanting to avoid him, after that nauseating episode.

"You'll miss your class."

It was as though nothing had happened between them.

"I…I…I'm not g-g-going," she stammered, her eyes downcast.

"Why? Are you feeling unwell?"

She could sense his concern.

"It's just that…it's just that, you know…"

"What's going on here?" The coach's voice boomed.

She squirmed under his eagle-eye vision. "Why are you not changed?"

"She's uhh, she's not feeling well, Sir. She was about to head over to the medical bay."

Tyler had stood up for her, despite what she had done to him.

The coach nodded in understanding, then walked off, blowing his shrill whistle to get the students' attention.

"You didn't have to," she said, when they were alone again.

"It doesn't matter." He brushed off her comment.

She felt that she owed him something; an explanation for what had happened, and why she was acting this way.

"You mark yourself because you can't make your mark elsewhere."

Wait, wasn't that what a troubadour had said, awhile back in his heyday? _Richey Edwards._ Maybe she was losing her mind.

He appeared to be a bit taken aback by her statement.

"I'm sorry, I'm like this." She bit her lip. "I can't help myself."

He reached his hand out to touch her face, but stopped mid-way, squashing it and letting it drop to his side. Silently, he wanted to help her. But still shaken by the recent event, he decided to lay low for now.

"You'd better be off then."

She turned to leave, disappearing down the aisle of lockers, taking one last glance at Tyler before she made for the sharp turn, out of sight.

* * *

Nicky's was bustling with business, with the pub mostly filled with students from Spencer, taking a night off the studying. They found solace in the mindless noise which filled their ears in great decibels, they themselves chatting to each other above it.

The waitresses' trays were laden with drinks, coming in jugs, cans and glasses of all shapes and sizes. They skillfully unwound themselves through the maze and knots of people, arriving safely at the tables, where they eased their load, delicious froth still intact and forming at the top.

The jukebox jammed to popular tunes in place of a band. Hip-hop, R&B, Jazz, Rock, Pop, even classic tunes from the 50s onwards, to the flower-power hippy banging 80s. You name it, they had it. Occasionally, a distasteful tune would come on, and everyone would cringe, eyes seeking out the culprit, once found, there'd be hell to pay.

Again, the boys amused themselves at their usual haunts. Caleb and Pogue having a serious man-to-man talk before joining their girlfriends, Reid and Tyler by the pool table, passing the waiting time for competition, by none other than betting on random ladies' underwear.

"So tell me why you decided to drag all of us here on a school night, again?" He sounded like he was complaining.

"Chill, man." Pogue took a couple of beers from the counter, handing it out to his friends. "My treat."

"Thanks," Caleb replied, sipping it guardedly.

"Besides, Sarah's worried about you."

"She doesn't have to be." He pushed his beer away. Suddenly, it didn't seem so appetising anymore.

"And what about us? Don't we have a right to know, bro?"

"Look, I'm sick and tired of people always at my back!" It came out worse than he had expected. A few strangers around him jumped at his release of temper, others observed him curiously.

"Suit yourself," Pogue snapped. He intertwined his arm around Kate's and led her to another table.

Sarah took the seat next to him cautiously. She put her hand over his, but he slid his away. "If you don't mind, I'd rather not talk about it now."

"Ok."

A thought hit her and she shook her head vigourously. "Actually, I do mind." She yanked at his shoulders, so that he would face her as she spoke.

"I gave you space, Caleb. And everything you could possibly ask for, I did for you, relentlessly. Maybe I shouldn't be so generous, huh?" Her eyes flashed bitterly, as she got up from her seat. "What exactly do you want?"

"Sarah…" His eyes told a sorrow no one knew.

"Don't Sarah me!" She directed herself away from him. "It's not going to work anymore!"

If he wanted her love, he'd better work for it.

Satisfied, she went over to join Pogue and Kate.

_Meanwhile…_

"Hey Tyler." Reid snapped his fingers in front of his friend's face. "Yo."

He had blanked out again, for the fifth time, consecutively in a row.

Tyler shook himself. "Whaa…?"

"So which hot chick are ya lookin' at?" Reid tried to trace his line of vision but to no avail.

"Uhm, no one," he shrugged it off, but Reid wasn't convinced.

"Come on, man. Didn't they teach ya how ta share? Ya can't just bag her all by yourself without my assistance." He gleamed proudly, patting his chest.

He stole another look at her, hoping that Reid wouldn't find out. He hadn't told the guys about what had happened, wishing to respect her privacy.

"Isn't that Hairin?"

Tyler heard his friend's voice, but wasn't paying attention. All he could think about was what she said in the locker rooms. _You mark yourself because you can't make your mark elsewhere._

"I thought she wasn't even interested in coming!"

He waved his gloved hand in front of Tyler. "There ya go again."

"Whaa…?"

"I can't believe she still sticks with those assholes."

"Oh."

"Dude, are you stoned or what?"

"No…"

Reid grinned devilishly. "Awww, you've got hots for her!" He playfully ruffled Tyler's hair. "I should've known!"

"WHAT? Of course not!" He tried to defend himself, fearing the endless teasing that was about to come.

"Of course ya do!" Reid chided. "Bet'cha haven't been able to take your eyes off her, ever since the time she fell from that tree, and you just had to carry her in your arms, trying to sooth her, even though she wasn't hurt at all!"

Tyler coughed. "Wow, it looks like everyone's underestimated Reid's memory power."

"Say that again, Sims," he warned.

A second later, his grin re-emerged. "Set your baby eyes on this one." He turned Tyler's head towards a girl wearing a tube top that seemed two sizes too small for her and a flouncy micro-mini skirt.

"Leopard print see-through."

_Thump._ A crisp, twenty-dollar bill imprinted itself on the pool table.

"Pink cotton."

_Thump._ Another twenty-dollar bill topped it.

Reid rolled his eyes. "Ridiculous choice, as usual. Kiss my ass, baby boy!"

"Gold silk."

_Thump._ A delicate hand lay on top of the wad of notes.

Both boys were dumbfounded.

Reid was the first one to respond. "Whhooaa, Hairin. Err, I know you want to be with Ty-boy, but maybe you could join us later?"

She cocked her head, as if she didn't understand a single word he had spoken. "Not until this round is done."

"You've got weird taste, babe."

Muttering under his breath, he added, "There's another word for it."

Tyler shot him a death-glare.

Nevertheless, he revealed the answer, as his eyes shifted from colour-to-colour in a flicker, and the girl's skirt rode upwards.

"What the f–"

"No way!"

"How the hell did you know?" Reid was astonished. "Are you les –" Tyler covered his mouth in time.

"Kira said that she only spreads her legs on silk. So I took the hint and a wild guess."

She couldn't help but include something to deflate the boy's ego for once, "Word gets around, looks like you're outta touch."

It worked like a miracle.

"Whatever, man." He picked up his cue stick. "Hey, why don't you call your wussy friends to come over for a game? I need a _real_ challenge here."

This time, it was Tyler's turn to scoff. "You call Aaron and his twiddle-dum, twiddle-dee henchmen a challenge?"

"Don't get smart with me, Sims."

Tyler backed off whilst Hairin scooped up the cash. When they had gone a good distance away, she stuffed it in his pocket. He couldn't accept it, but she insisted.

"I'll buy us drinks, how about that?"

She agreed half-heartedly as he made the order and picked it up.

"Could we talk somewhere?" She fiddled with her hands anxiously.

He motioned for her to follow him outside, where they could be away from the drowning noise.

"What is it?"

"About the other day –"

"Don't." He didn't want to bring up that issue again.

She swallowed hard. "Thanks for not telling the others."

"No problem."

It sounded so cold and uncaring. These powers were supposed to entitle him to do anything, but why couldn't he heal her?

"I wish I could've changed things."

"You can't." As steely as a robot, blunt, right-in-your-face.

"I wish I never existed."

"Don't say that!" It was hushed, but he meant every word.

Suddenly, she felt it again, the splitting headache. At the back of her mind, a voice called out to her. Was it Tyler, like that time in class?

Her vision blurred and she fell back into darkness.


	7. The Boy In Dreams

**A/N: **Hey there, so sorry for going on hiatus for such a long time. I lost momentum after the UK trip and not to mention, school has definitely been busy, with loads of work and activities! I'll probably be updating sporadically from now on. I'm trying to squeeze out as much free time as I can. Well, I'm not sure whether this chapter is rather disjointed and incoherent or not. Do let me know!

**Crickes:** I'm glad you like the way their relationship is playing out. Not sure if I'm ready for them to take the next step yet. Perhaps just friends for now, with a little more interest in each other.

**LittleSin:** I'm really really loving your story woman! If anything, I'd be the one envious. Your take on Chase is fantastic! Hope to hear more from you.

**xlexisx:** Thank you for the wonderful comments and making me think more about my work as well. I'll definitely take what you said about Caleb into serious consideration. Although he may not be as main as some others, there are some factors about him that I will be introducing that will be pivotal in the storyline.

**Miss. Allerdyce:** Hello! Yay, you love my Covenant fanfic! I'm so sorry I haven't replied to your Myspace msg, everything's been so hectic. I'll probably concentrate on this before I continue the X-Men one, haha, I wonder how long that'll take.

**rorykins:** Hey there, well a good new year ahead to you! Take care of that leg ok? Don't worry, there's always another chance at it, even if it's elsewhere. Anyway, hope to see more of Will in your fanfic.

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_Where am I?_

A dimly-lit room with the light bulb creaking, having a life of its own.

"A place where nothing exists, except you and me."

His icy blue eyes stared into mine, burrowing deep into my scarred soul.

I didn't know who, or what I was cowering from. He touched my shoulder, tracing its fine structure and brought his face down, next to mine, as he squatted in front of me.

"You're the boy in my dreams."

"Exactly." He smiled, acknowledging the fact that I had taken this long to decipher it.

"What do you want?" I shook myself, trying to recover from my unconsciousness.

"What I want?" His laugh was cynical, but I took a strange comfort in that.

"You know what I want."

He paused. "It's only a matter of when it will be given."

I drowned in skepticism. "Look, I don't even know who you are or what the fuck you have done to me."

"Then why don't you just leave?" It sounded so calm and unnerving.

I couldn't leave. Not that I couldn't, he wasn't restraining me in any way. I didn't want to, and I didn't know why.

"Quit being so clichéd."

He appeared to be amused by this statement and my false brave front. "Hmm, feisty, are we?"

"In reference to your earlier declaration, I beg to differ. You do, indeed know who I am."

"Mr. Big Bad Wolf?" I snorted, rolling my eyes and wondering to myself why I lacked the power to pull myself up and go.

His bite-sized grin surfaced. "Right you are, Little Red Riding Hood." His slender fingers danced along my thighs. "I'd eat you anytime."

A shiver ran up my spine, acknowledging the version darker than Brothers' Grimm. Maybe it was intuition, but something made me murmur, "Chase…"

Wait, that sounded too familiar. "Chase!" I screeched, frighteningly alarmed at my latest discovery.

He, the _real_ bad-boy of the Covenant, or maybe worse than that. He, the rest had admonished me about. He, the power-hungry freak.

"You're supposed to be _dead_!"

The light bulb burst and everything was pitch-black. I felt a wet tongue against the side of my neck. I tried to fend off the villain, but I couldn't even see my hands. A panic rose within me, the kind that blasted you with questions, confusing you with different scenarios, as I grabbed at nothing.

_Oh God, did I disappear…_

_evaporate…_

_cease…_

_into nothingness?_

'**Just let me touch something!'** My mind cried.

_The walls, floors, him! Just anything!_

A hand seized mine and made me yelp. I could feel his smirk on me. _Good as dead, you say?_

"Please…cut it out."

_And he did._

A bright light shone right into my face, so bright it stung my eyes, making me see purple as I shut them tight. My hands clawed at the rays, begging whoever it was to turn it off. It grew fainter, adjusting to the amount my eyes could handle.

"Do you believe in love, Hairin?" He teased me again.

I wasn't going to give him the glory over this one. My hair fell all over my face as I tried to crawl away from him. He followed up with every stride.

"'Cause, funnily enough, I do."

From the shades of my locks, I saw his branded leather shoes halting right before my visage. He held me up against the wall with enormous strength. I gurgled and spat as his iron grip choked my life away.

"You see, I'm in love with power. Theirs; yours. Hence, them; you."

"Then why don't you just take it?" It was a ragged, primitive yell.

He released me and I slopped down against the floor like a puppet. Caressing my hair, he whispered into my ear, "I can help you control it."

"If you expect me to believe you, you're out of your mind."

"I already am." He chuckled. "It seems that you and I have a lot in common."

I thought about it for awhile. It never occurred to me how true it was. "I'm not in love with power."

He disagreed, naturally. "Oh, but you soon will be, after I teach you how to harness it."

"What if I refuse?"

He tilted my chin towards his. "Are you sure?"

_No, I wasn't sure._

"Doesn't look like you have much of a choice there, does it?"

An inch of me fought back. "I'll tell the others and –"

"And what? They'll come protect their precious little princess?" He taunted. "Darling, you have a lot to learn."

"You mean nothing to them. You're just a burden; a responsibility."

I clutched my head, screaming, "Stop fucking with my mind!"

The whole room started to shake, but he continued, composed as before, "You mean something to me. Not everything, granted. But more than those brats actually give a damn about you."

For the first time in Ipswich, I cried. God knows how those tears came, but they fell so freely I was stunned for a few seconds. This was me, the old me, sobbing uninhibitedly in front of a stranger.

"What do you want?" He had turned the question back at me.

My whole body was filled with tremor. "I don't know."

"You will." Covering my eyes, it seemed as though he had cast a spell to make them heavy with sleep. "Until then, rest well, princess. Be sure that I'll be paying you more visits in the near future."

My distorted vision cleared itself, bringing me back to reality, or what I hoped it would be.

"Guys, she's come to," Pogue's rough voice grated my ears.

I was lying on the medical bed in the school's clinic. It hauntingly reminded me of what I had faced not long ago. The next minute, four worried pairs of eyes hung above me, asking me if I was alright.

"Never felt better," I simpered.

* * *

"Hello Mrs. Danvers."

She swung around, smiling, and reached out to hug the frail girl. "Oh, just Evelyn will do."

"I trust that the end-of-terms went well?"

The girl's expression was of distaste, clearly reminded of the amount of work she had put in, yet the questions never failed to bewilder her. If only she could have Caleb's gift of academia.

"I'm sure my boy wouldn't mind giving a bit of tuition," Evelyn hinted.

Caleb forced a smile. "Sure, I'll be free to lend a hand. Anytime."

She felt the static of tension underlying their cheery disposition. _I'll be a burden no matter where I am._

'_Not to me', a_ small voice echoed within her. So soft, she'd almost missed it.

A wrinkled, nearly translucent hand lay on top of the youthful, fragile one. "I've always wanted to show you this."

The monotone photograph, wedged between a golden frame, was shoved before her. Two handsome young gentlemen in formal wear adorned the main space. Both broody, but striking.

"They were so good-looking."

How she hated that wistfulness! It was sham, like a dream; an acid trip to repression.

"Yes, they were." She swallowed hard, tearing away from the picture, trying to keep eye-contact with Evelyn.

"You must know how much we felt for your father. He was a very respectable man. I'm sorry we couldn't help him."

_Did she hear a sniffle?_ Hairin brushed her fringe out of her vision line, unnervingly.

Evelyn examined her for awhile, searching for a certain something she wanted to highlight, but couldn't place her finger on. "You look like him. Exactly like him."

"Mum," Caleb whispered. His eyes flashed a warning she caught almost immediately.

Clearing her throat, she tried to wave off the subject she started, but it was too late. Hairin was already lost in her own world. The words bounced off her, ineffective at finding a cure.

Flashbacks ran along mindlessly until it halted at a unique. Maybe she could handle this one.

**They were sitting in his car. Just him and her and the wide unknown before them. The plain stretch of road, beside rural wheat plantations, against the heavy grey sky with the **_fucked-up face_**, just like the one in **_My Own Private Idaho_**. Maybe she was truly a connoisseur of roads.**

"**You trust me, don't you?"**

"**Always Dad, always."**

**Then, he disappeared. Just like that. Into thin air, without her.**

"**Dad!"**

"**I'm here, baby."**

"**Where? I can't see you! What's going on?"**

**A flash of lightning struck violently.**

"**I'm right beside you. Look at me."**

**She squinted, rubbed, stared and prayed. Nothing happened. Or rather, she was trapped with nothingness. **

**The still air and the threat of another bolt scared her. It was the intensity of the prolonging wait, for something to occur, be it good or bad.**

_I look exactly like him. _No way in Hell could she deny that.

**The woman with a pinched-face, clothed in royal wine-red, poked her finger accusingly at her. She had found out about the secret trip they weren't supposed to share.**

"**You!" She roared.**

**Temper was licking the edge of her tongue and heat flared through her **_qi_**, as she had always called it. It seemed as though she was at a loss for words. **

**Well, that didn't matter. Words couldn't hurt the girl anymore.**

"**You look exactly like him!"**

**As though it was a curse. It hissed and sparked in her belly, traveling to her upper-torso, and outwards. Her lips opened and closed, **_mlop, mlop, mlop_**, like a dying fish. She writhed until her mother ordered her to stop.**

**Then, she mouthed, **_I am forsaken_

"It's alright, Evelyn. I understand."

She imitated Caleb's smile to perfection.

* * *

Lone shadows cast against solids of the grand hall. The stage erect glowed gently as muted lights diffused its rays from above. The place was empty, save for a figure gliding along the wooden floorboards. Everything was in perfect order; calm and serene. Everything she wanted it to be.

Air flowed from the player; its affecting composition determined every fraction of movement she created. Detail was important; the rising and falling of chest, the pointing and flexing of toes, the shift in weight. Her fingers stirred towards the invisible audience, she stretched beyond its confinements, as a force breathed through her, spiraling like a ball of yarn.

Maybe this was why she had the natural flair for what she was doing. Granted with seemingly delicate treads, the strength to fashion an illusion of defying gravity, wispy yet steadfast and grounded, which dancer wouldn't want the ethereal, within beauty or ugliness?

She chose the ugly, loving every minute of subtlety only the sharp could admire. Make it angular and repulsive at times; soft and tender at others. For the moment, she couldn't care less if someone had walked in on her, watching the power cascade alongside the fluidity of her body. At least, nothing was in chaos or disarray.

The shuffling of footsteps startled her for a split-second, causing her to lose her balance. She recovered gracefully with the help of hands supporting her back and waist. She curled the toes of her left foot uneasily, mindful of his presence.

"I heard music coming from the hallway. Thought I'd come in and check," he explained, still as cautious as ever.

"I'm not your charity case." It dripped with contempt.

She prepared to take off her socks, stuffing them into her bag. _That should've shut him up._ She was so tired of all this banter, the pushing of fault, blame and guilt on a dish, like children who didn't want the obligation of accepting it.

He snatched her elbow fiercely, his eyes electrifyingly deep-set blue. "So you really think that lowly of me? That I see you as a duty, nothing more?"

His disappointment was plain for all to see. "You should've known better, Hairin."

"Listen to me good, Tyler. I don't need your sympathy or Red Cross aid, ok?" She proceeded to unplug the player.

"Fuck, you just don't get it, do you?" His rage was getting hard to quell.

"No, I'm just accepting the blame." She had stopped mid-way in whatever she was doing.

"What?" He choked. "Come on, it isn't –"

"Yes it is, Tyler. I am, have been, and will be the root of everything that brings about ruin. That's me, without the self-pity. And deep down inside, you know it. You've known it all along."

The keys jingled in her bag. "Now if you will excuse me, I need to lock up."

"No."

She laughed derisively. "Oh, so you expect that to make me stay?"

"You're not going anywhere." His tone was stern.

She rolled her eyes in hostility and continued on her way out. A surge of energy worked against her, pulling her back to her original position. No doubt, she found herself plunging into those rigid pair of coals.

"You're not supposed to Use!" Although she half-anticipated it to happen.

"Really? I don't recall you making the rules."

She tried to ram her way through, but there seemed to be transparent barrier between him, her and the exit path.

"Give it up, Hairin."

"No!" She would never, not for anything in the world. She'd carry on, no matter what. Multiple rows of seats below the stage overturned, resulting in a racket.

He let go of the barrier instantly, but managed to hold on to her, before she had any time to escape. He fixed the mess in a flicker, without even peering at it once. His eyes were on her only.

"Can we just stop this? Can we just give ourselves another chance?"

"Can you?"

"What do you think?"

She shrugged. "I don't care."

But his determination broke through. "Well, I do. I always have."

"You've only met me twice before this."

"So?"

She couldn't reply to that. For eternity, they stood together in silence.

Finally, he let his guard down.

"You know, you're amazing when you dance," he said light-heartedly. "And other times as well," he quickly added in. "But when you dance – you know what I mean – it's well, it's very –"

She couldn't subdue the giggles that emerged from her lips. It was awkward Tyler as usual.

"Hey, don't change the subject," she attempted.

"It felt good, didn't it?" He grinned.

"Was this your idea all along, you sneaky bastard."

"Rhetorical question," he observed. "So, I'll take it as a yes?"

"Perhaps."

He was resolute. "Yes?"

Sighing, she uttered an agreement as he held her close to him. They remained there contentedly, without another word.

_From a distance, a perfect pair of eyes watched intently, waiting upon a plan._


	8. Battles With Demons

**A/N: **It's the beginning of my midyears, but I just had to get this out, even though I'm rusty. I know I haven't updated since forever and was on the verge of giving up. Anyway, thanks for staying with me. Just to let you know, the character concepts for Patrick, Penelope and Hairin are up on my profile page, just click on the names there. Funny how creativity comes during exams. I'm in the midst of planning a new Covenant fanfic, crazy huh?

For now, I hope that you will enjoy this chappie!

**Crickes:** Thanks, I guess I'm a sucker for fluff and whatnot. I always have a feeling my dialogue is a bit strange and too proper if you know what I mean. Yep, the horrible woman is the mum.

**Anna:** Thank you! Dark, raw Chase gives me delightful shivers.

**rorykins:** Thanks for voting, sorry I didn't use them in the end since there was hardly any response. I found another Hairin though ;)

**LittleSin:** I'm really grateful for your ever-constant support. Really a big thank you to you and I apologise, but I **will** get down to reading your story after the exams. It's almost impossible for me to finish it in a day…I'm a pretty slow reader :(

**ChelsieMarie:** Sorry if it gets a bit confusing. I like letting people piece things together, a bit sadistic eh? Do let me know if it gets messy though. I'm sure there are plenty Tyler stories out there now!

------------------------------------

The bitch seated directly in front of him wouldn't stop jabbering. Her pretty little face was starting to annoy. Why had he bothered to ask her out to the local bistro in the first place?

A day ago, he was entirely sure of himself and his judgment. Nice legs, ass, curves – whatever. Now, it seemed as though everything about her had morphed itself, into this ugly, hideous thing that made him want to gag.

Maybe he should just leave it as that, no longer seeking what he had initially set out for. Maybe.

"Hey babe, why don'cha get somethin' to eat?" He stretched out his hand, a crushed ball of cash enclosed within.

She nodded in a silly way, took the offer and wiggled her way to place an order.

He slouched back in his chair, thankful for the five-minute break, before he'd have to deal with her nonsense again. Even the occasional sip of strongly-brewed coffee had failed to work on him. Mentally, he made a note to obtain some pain-killers for his throbbing head on his way back.

"Girls these days," he muttered. "Have no class."

They were so damn easy, it took the fun out of trying. Whilst girls practically throwing themselves at the opposite sex might have excited him a while ago, it sure wasn't now. Even the so-called posh, upper-class girls were doing it. He didn't know whether they were sexually frustrated or making some sort of statement for a reform. He just didn't fancy any of that.

At the corner of his eye, he saw someone familiar. How could he miss her? To him, she was the least difficult to spot in a crowd. Something about her radiated and it wasn't because she was blonde and leggy. There were plenty of those around.

He blinked once; twice. She was still there. Not a figment of his imagination. Perhaps he could admire the scenery for the moment before that pesky harlot returned.

Her hair was tucked neatly behind her ears, cowlicks emerging at the side, giving those slight, casual morning flares. Her eyes were set nicely upon her cheery, sensitively intelligent face. And her heart-shaped, virgin lips that spoke of wonders and sincerity. Her body, wrapped in warm, winter clothes. Nothing flashy, but plain and common-place. All of these never failed to brighten his day.

She was hunched over her revision notes, tampering with an iced cappuccino on the side. She didn't see him. That was good, he didn't want her to. He wanted to peer on from afar, not as the voyeur he used to enjoy, but as an admirer, a secret one at that.

Everyone thought he had gotten over his _crush_. He thought so too, constantly reminding himself that he had given up on her, because she belonged to Caleb and no one else. He tried to convince himself that he only liked her for her cuteness.

If so, why did the yearning never stop? Why did he find other features of her that attracted him, noticing the details others never bothered to observe? He liked her for her spunk, energy and optimism. Things he never used to believe in.

Something was holding him back from having her. He didn't want to force her into it and he didn't want the bond with his _brother_ to be broken. He was already starting to feel it fray at the edges.

What the hell was he doing, always hanging around her, like a _friend_, there for her when she needed a shoulder to lean on?

A shoulder to lean on? _Damn, that sounded cheesy._

But it was true. He struck at every opportunity he got to be with her. This, he had a hard time admitting to himself. He hoped to God no one knew all of which he had kept from the others for a long time and counting.

"Rrrreee-iiii-ddd!!!"

Now, that shocked him back to reality. Never had he heard his name as blatantly butchered up as that! He twisted his mouth in anguish.

"I'm baaaacck!" Her stupid grin surfaced again.

He rolled his eyes. _Apparently she assumes I'm dumb, like her._ He had to check himself again, reassuring his state of mind that the _thing_ that was talking wasn't a two-year old.

"Right, Becca. Just sit down."

She literally chucked the tray of food on the table, crashed down upon the chair, and walloped everything like a horse. Or so it appeared, in his point of view.

It was as though Puck had played his conniving little trick on him – just done it in the reverse. As time passed, she had grown even more unsightly in his eyes. _Ok, maybe her legs weren't so hot._

He wasn't paying attention to her, as usual, when she picked up from where she left off ranting, something about colouring her hair, which didn't give a shit about.

A few tables front, Sarah packed her things, ready to make a move. Probably for a break from the work she had been doing. A nice stroll in the park would do. She smiled absentmindedly to herself.

He traced that smile in his dreams, the one that made him feel at ease, in turn, echoing the same, pleasant smile on his face. It was genuine.

He watched her leave, erasing every memory of her, as her light footsteps made their way out of the door. Trying, but failing again. Everything had etched deeper in his recollections, replaying the scene again and again.

Quietly, watched her leave, with a fond sadness in his eyes and smile.

* * *

I laughed sardonically at the slip of paper in my hand.

_Self-Multilators Anonymous: The 12-Step Support Group. _

_Please proceed to the Student Welfare building, Level 2, Room 507._

How fucked up was that? A 12-step rehab programme? They'd be sending me to the halfway house in no time. I wondered how many group therapy classes this academy had. Who knows, I might even advance to a Suicide Anonymous at the rate this was going.

I tapped cautiously on the door. A muffled reply bade me to enter. Curiously, I peeked in headfirst. The room was bare, stripped of all decoration and furniture, save for a few chairs arranged in a circle. There were only three other students apart from me, excluding the therapist, whom I assumed was the happiest-looking person in the room.

"Hello Hairin, I'm Dave," he pointed to his marker-inked name tag. "Welcome to our support group. Please, take a seat."

He continued on with the usual opening statement, "The Self-Mutilators Anonymous is a fellowship of men and women who share their experience, strength, and hope with each other, that they may solve their common problem and help others to recover from physical self-mutilation. Our primary goal is to help you to stop mutilating yourself using the 12-step programme."

This wasn't new to me. I remembered the compulsory group therapy I had to attend during my hospitalisation, just under a different name and programme outline but they all had a similar basis: Information is confidential, everything stays within the four walls and nothing leaves the room.

"This is Tom, Dylan and Hannah."

Each nodded when they heard their names being called. You could tell they were seasoned members. Perfectly normal outside, but broken inside. That makes the four of us.

"Alright, since Hairin is new to us and may not know how we go about our usual procedures, we shall guide her along. Tom, please."

He motioned for the boy with a lip-ring to start.

Abruptly, he shot up, introducing himself like it was some Speech Day competition, telling us about his sorrows, his recent findings, improvements along with the times he faltered.

All I could hear was…_I am lonely, I am lonely, I am lonely._

Dylan was less formal, but still very much the same, mechanical thought process, only it came through in disguise under the confidence of a potential candidate involved in some political campaign.

"I think cutting's a very natural thing, really."

Her hands constantly waved about as she hypothesised various theories, quoting from Marx and interjecting her views on such matters. She reeked of hypocrisy and I could smell it, her type I knew pretty well.

Hannah was more uncomfortable with speaking, often trembling over every word she spoke. Not that she said much anyway. Dave nonetheless remained cheerful, trying to lend a helping hand whenever she needed it.

When it finally came to my turn, I didn't know what to say. Usually I'd have a whole monologue planned out, all filled with lies to make my life and the counselor's life easier. What was I supposed to say? Pain helps me to deal with my sanity but unfortunately causes side effects that include the involuntary movement of objects?

_Hell no._

Someone knocked. Allowing himself in, he cleared his throat. I caught my breath. That sounded too familiar.

"Sorry to intrude. Uh, I was wondering if I could, uh, join Hairin? I'm a friend of hers, I'd just like to offer her my support."

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit._

_Say no, Dave. Just say no!_

All eyes were upon me. Slowly, Dave questioned me as though I was a six-year old child, "Hairin, would you like your friend to join you?"

"Yes."

It came so suddenly I couldn't stop it. I was breathless.

Dave smiled and brought out another chair as a welcome gift. After settling down, my friend turned his watchful gaze towards me, blinding me with those eyes of his.

"Hey."

I couldn't respond.

"Training ended late. I tried to rush here in time."

I looked away.

He held my hand. "I want to be here for you."

Everyone was waiting for me. Wearily, I stood up, hand still linked with his. I breathed in deeply before I began. Bold, honest and broken.

All I could hear myself saying was…_I need you, I need you, I need you._

After the session, I cried myself to sleep, him beside me, as promised.

* * *

"Rise and shine, sweetheart!"

Groggily, she rubbed her eyes and grimaced when she saw the dark figure standing against the morning light.

"What? You don't like my proposed affection?"

"How endearing."

His eyes grinned at her response.

"Chase, I'm in no mood to deal with you. Please take your hot air someplace else. It's taking up my space."

Chuckling, he raised his hands up in mock surrender. "Oh, my dear, petite, princess…I see you are really living up to your title."

"Where's Tyler?" she asked, irritated.

The frown upon his face was instant. "Not here."

She rolled her eyes at the obvious. "Then, I'm off."

She was about to make her way out of her dorm room when he sprang forward, throwing her onto the bed. His eyes were angrily black, powering up as he strangled her, just like he did the other time.

"**HE. IS. NOT. HERE!! **DO YOU GET THAT?"

The windows and mirror shattered as she tried to pry open his hold on her. Objects were flying all over the place, spiraling in every direction. She was losing control, turning blue and epileptic.

"WHAT'S INSIDE?" He placed a hand across her heart, still roughly holding her down.

"**RAGE???"**

He questioned again. **"PASSION???"**

Unexpectedly, he released her. She shoved him off vehemently and slapped him hard, until he could taste the metallic iron of blood in his mouth. He smiled.

"**What the hell do you think you're doing?!"**

"You detest me, don't you?"

Then, he adopted a level of seriousness. "Aim those books at me."

"WHAT?"

"Just do it."

She was confused. What, how and why was he asking her to do this?

"Rationalise your fury. Madness. You **hate** me." His actions threatened to repeat another round of the earlier episode.

She felt it again, a whole mix of emotions nearing the point of eruption.

"What do you think of your mother, Hairin?"

Her mouth twisted into a snarl and she narrowed her eyes.

_I hate her._

_Good. Now remember those books._

The moment she focused a little of her attention on them, they darted towards Chase, ready to knock him into a state of unconsciousness.

_Bull's-eye. _

_Not quite._ He waved them off. They stopped in mid-air, then fell to the ground, motionless.

"Bravo, bravo!" He clapped audaciously.

She turned away disgusted.

"A small _Thank You_ would've been nice."

She could feel his moist breath on her lips as his face came extremely close to hers, looking at her contemplatively, never once shifting his gaze. He leaned forward, but she held him back in reflex, and this time, he was the one who cast his eyes away.

There was an awkward silence before he spoke up again brazenly. "You will do something for me now."

It was a direct order. No buts, ifs, or maybes.

"Ok," she answered without thinking twice.

"Caleb's not taking it too well at the moment." He gave a wry smile. "Catch him when he's weak. Comfort him. Tell him you won't inform the others."

"Inform them about what?"

He avoided her question. "Just go."

In a flicker, she was a lightweight, disappearing from the bedroom. Then, she felt something hard hit her feet, falling against grass and mud. She got up, brushing the dead leaves off her clothes. A strong surge of wind caused her stumble onto the ground again.

From afar, she saw a distant figure by the shoddy drain canal, his hands raised to the sky, as though commanding the elements to strike and destroy. Electricity shot out from his eyes and he screamed in agony. She'd never seen anything like it.

"Caleb!" she yelled.

He whipped around, staggering, trying to maintain his sense of balance. All at once, his eyes returned to their normal colour, although within them lay the dark intensity of the instability she had just witnessed.

His head hung low, half in shame and half in denial. Following what Chase had instructed her to do, she went to him, comforted him with her arms, telling him it was alright. Everyone's crazy at some point in their lives.

"I won't tell the rest," she promised.

Every muscle in his body clenched. "You don't know how good it feels. To use." It came out pained, crashing down with the burdens of responsibility, his father, his mother.

"I need help."

She opposed this. "No, you need to deal with it on your own."

"We all have our demons, Caleb. It's better if we come to terms with it ourselves." The words flowed out of her naturally, as though someone had put them there. Or maybe it was really her subconscious talking.

"It'll be a good idea to keep this to yourself for now. I'm afraid the rest might overreact." It was only then that she realised what Chase had in mind.

_Don't inform the others about his instability. Encourage it. He won't be able to deal for tuppence._

Her eyes widened knowingly, coldness gripped her. She wanted to put a stop to this evil, but it was too late. Caleb accepted everything she had said. Once he reached a decision, it was ingrained, and he kept to it religiously.

"You're right. It's my battle."


End file.
